


Anubis

by spiltyoungblood



Category: Psych
Genre: Case Fic, Eventual Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Serial Killer, possibly smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-03 20:55:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16333304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiltyoungblood/pseuds/spiltyoungblood
Summary: A serial killer who kills psychics and a protective Lassiter, kinda.Work in Progress (i wrote this at 2 am tbh)





	Anubis

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! If i’m being honest, i’m bad at continuing fanfics. So if an incomplete story bothers you (it bothers me most of the time too tbh) then don’t read it! Sorry i never really continued the last one btw, Wasn’t really sure the story would work out. I might end up continuing it though.. if the mood strikes, so don’t lose hope!

_Prologue_

_Santa Barbara, 1987_

“God this is so boring” Shawn whined, “Who cares what the ancient Egyptians thought?”

Gus ignored him, reading his textbook. Like the teacher’s pet that he was.

“Come on Gus! We should go out and play or something! We should go do something!”

“Shawn, you know Mr. Spencer will find out if you don’t do your homework.”

Shawn grumbled, he hated it when Gus called his dad _Mr. Spencer_ , he was a _parent’s_ pet too.

“Yeah, but he’ll have to understand. He’s the one who wants me to be a cop! It’s not like ancient egypt has anything to do with that.” he muttered.

“It’s not even that bad Shawn, Ancient Egyptian Mythology is pretty interesting! Plus it’s important to know so we understand what they used to base their religion and culture around” he said matter-of-factly.

Shawn huffed. “Gus seriously. No ten year old needs to know this. Your probably the only kid in class who cares.”

“Or maybe i’m just interested! Look at this stuff Shawn, if you give it a chance it might interest you! Like, read this paragraph, this guy seems cool.”

He pointed at a paragraph underneath a bold subsection that read: _**Anubis: God of the Dead**_.

_Anubis is the Guardian of the gates to the underworld. He resembles a man with the head of a jackal, which was not uncommon as Gods with heads of different animals were frequent in Egyptian Mythology. Anubis, as the god of the dead, was closely associated with **mummification** and burial rites. Egyptian jackals also had an association with the dead, because they would dig up the dead to eat them. The priests who mummified the dead **pharaohs** wore costumes to make them appear like jackals. The Egyptian people believed that Anubis helped decide the fate of the dead in the afterlife. The heart of the dead was weighed against the feather of truth, to see if the deceased was worthy of entering the afterlife._

Shawn feigned amazement, “Gus this is..”

“..yes?” Gus asked, hopeful.

“ _sooooo_ boring.”

“Shawn! It’s not boring it’s cool! Wouldn’t you think it’d be cool to have a jackal as a head?”

Shawn snorted, “my head’s fine as it is thanks”

“You just don’t want to admit that some stuff in history is cool.”

“What’s so cool about having a jackal for a head Gus? Do you really want to have a jackal head? Then no one would like you!”

“It’s not _real_ but that doesn’t mean it isn’t cool!”

“Yeah it’s so _coool_. Maybe i ought to start calling you Jackal Head Gus, or the Jackal. But who cares, either way, i’m done with this boring stuff,” He dropped his book onto his bed and stood up, ”I’m gonna walk to the harbor and buy some ice cream.”

Gus snorted, “Yeah right. Youre just trying to get me to come with you! Where would you get money anyways? Your Dad _never_ gives you allowance unless you do your chores on time, which is also _never_..”

Shawn gave a mischievous grin, “You know i have my ways Gus.”

“Shawn! Mr. Spencer’s gonna kill you if he finds out you’ve been playing poker at the station again!”

Shawn glared at Gus, realizing too late his mistake of sharing his secret income with Gus the Tattle Tale.

“You said you liked Jackcal’s right Gus? Well Jackals are secretive you know..”

Gus gave him a look.

Shawn let out a sigh, “I’ll buy you some ice cream if you don’t tell Henry.”

Gus smirked,“Deal.”

— —

A psychic was hard enough to deal with everyday, but now there was a serial killer on the loose. A serial killer who killed psychics.

Carlton sighed and repositioned himself on the air mattress. He wasn’t sure where the hell Shawn had managed to conjure the thing up from but at least it was better than then the weirdly small not-couch he seemed to have in his not-living room.

This entire situation was ridiculous. Why did _he_ have to stay with Shawn Spencer? The chief had already stationed a police presence outside of Spencer’s residence, but apparently that wasn’t nearly enough for the departments precious “psychic”. Carlton had really grabbed the metaphorical short straw.

Carlton doubted even the head of the police department could order her head detective to have a sleep over with her pretend psychic, no matter how heinous the circumstances, but what she had really done was made one of her _suggestions_ that everyone knew she expected you to actually get done. So technically she had _suggested_ Carlton should stay at Spencer’s place. 

Carlton sighed and sat up for a second, rubbing at his eyes until he saw lights, then laid back down, punching his pillow. God, why couldn’t have O’Hara come instead? They worked together just as often as him and Spencer. Geez, He even knew that Shawn, Gus, and her hung out sometimes without him. He felt pissed off that he had to stay with Spencer when O’Hara probably would have enjoyed staying over. Who knows? They could have even invited Guster over, had a movie night. 

He supposed it was like that out-of-state field trip rule all teachers went by. Males and females always had to be separated by sex when it came to hotel _and_ bus accommodations. He could understood why teachers felt the need to apply the rule when they had 100 hormonal teenagers to deal with, but it wasn’t as if O’Hara couldn’t handle herself. She was a professional. Even if she and Spencer tended to flirt, or banter, or whatever the hell you wanted to call it, she would understand how serious the situation was. Shawn seemed to flirt with anyone anyways. It’s not like he didn’t make weird innuendos when bothering Carlton.

He grumbled and turned back onto his other side. He hated thinking about Spencer and O’Hara and flirting and.. just Spencer. It made him feel perturbed. Probably because O’Hara was his partner and Spencer was... Spencer.

He should have just acted dumb when the chief made her “”suggestion””. But damn that woman could be intimidating. Intimidating yet at the same time someone you felt the need to impress.

Ok, it did suck he was here, but if Carlton was being honest, even if the chief really had been just fishing for ideas, he probably would have come anyways. Okay, he definitely would have. He always had this messed up self-righteous desire to help people out, and although that need usually stopped short of the fake psychic and his antics the situation was serious enough where Carlton was genuinely worried for him. Sleeping in Spencers strange laundry-mat apartment, on an air mattress behind his tiny couch was uncomfortable, but for a few nights? Manageable enough.

“ _I just need to man up and stop complaining_ ,” he thought to himself wearily, “ _stop complaining and.. stop thinking and just.. get some sleep_ ”

He sighed and sat up again. Who was he kidding? He was so incredibly tired, yet too antsy to sleep. He sat there for a few minutes, his head leaning against his hand, nodding off every now and then, before he decided this wouldn’t do and he should get something to drink. He grabbed his gun from under his pillow and put it in the waist band of his sweatpants. It was better than sitting there thinking about how much he didn’t want to be here. He stood up and wandered into the nearby break room turned kitchen Spencer had in his not-apartment and just stared. He had no idea where he kept his cups. 

Although it was a minor problem his sleep addled brain could not compute and he just kinda stood there for a while, barely awake.

“You looking for something?”

Carlton jumped as he heard Spencer’s voice, unaware he had walked in.

Carlton mumbled, “... what?”

“you’re just standing there.. you need something?”

Spencer’s voice sounded just as tired as Carlton felt. 

“I uhh..” Carlton cleared his throat, “I was looking for a cup i guess.”

He heard Spencer make a noise, before he reached up into one of the cabinets and grabbed a cup, and filled it with water from the sink.

He handed Carlton the cup and leaned against the counter as he watched him drain it. Carlton was thirstier than he thought.

“Can’t sleep or just woke up?”

Carlton swallowed, “..Can’t sleep. but.. I _am_ here to make sure you don’t get dragged off by some crazy killer in the night anyways, right?”

Shawn huffed, “True.. but you do have work tomorrow still don’t you?”

Carlton groaned, “... yeah. I do.”

It was odd how easily they were having such a casual conversation. It almost felt like they were different around each other when no one else was there. Maybe because Spencer knew he knew he wasn’t psychic. Less dramatics.

Shawn shifted, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but taking a sick day and sleeping in is probably a much better option, its pretty much morning already”.

Carlton sighed, “If it’s so early.. then what are you doing up?”

Shawn gave a non-committal shrug, looking away, “Hard to sleep with the thought of a serial killer kidnapping, torturing, then killing you circling ‘round your brain.”

Carlton snorted, even though he knew it wasn’t more of a joke than a deflection technique, “At least you’ve got a comfy bed to sleep on.” 

Shawn looked back at him. “Is the air mattress alright?”

“Well..” Carlton looked down at the cup Spencer had given him, inspecting the cartoon figures on the side of it, “i’ll be fine.”

“We can switch you know, i’m fine wherever.”

“No really, i’ll be fine. I’ll fall asleep eventually.”

“Ok.. but. I can honestly probably fall asleep anywhere, just ask Gus! Sometimes I even pull out my air mattress and sleep in here without guests when the routine of comfy sleeping gets too boring.”

Carlton raised an eyebrow, still looking at the cup, “Sleep anywhere, huh? Anywhere but your own bed?”

Shawn laughed, “Touché.. But really, even though we both know you won’t get much work done half asleep, you’re still gonna go in because your you and ‘cause you’ve got a serial killer roaming about Santa Barbara killing and torturing psychics, which hits a little too close to home.” Shawn looked down at his feet, sighing, “I literally can’t go in and help you because i’m - as you said earlier - to stay 200 feet away from this case at all times. If the air mattress doesn’t work out for me either, i’ll be fine sleeping in when you have to go to work without me.”

Carlton thought Spencer’s statement over. He did have a good point, and the head detective was tired, extremely so..

“Fine. I’ll sleep in your bed,” he grumbled, “your bedrooms not too.. messy is it?”

Shawn snorted, “It is. a bit. I’m sure you’ll be fine though. Good night.. don’t let the jaws bite.” 

With that he shuffled out of the room. There was a pause, then Carlton heard the squeak of someone lying down on the air mattress. No going back now he supposed. He refilled the cartoon cup he was still holding in his hand and walked into Spencers room, relieved that it at least wasn’t a complete war-zone. He took his gun out of his sweats and laid it on the nightstand next to Spencers bed. It might’ve just been the comfy Shawn scent-infused pillows, but he fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

— —

When Carlton woke up it was to the hell of his phones alarm and to the heaven of.. was that the smell of pancakes? 

The muffled detective sat up and blearily pried his eyes open. Who was in his apartment? Who was making pancakes? His brain fished for solutions. Gun. Where was his gun?

Oh wait.. right.

He smacked at his phone until it shut up then sighed and laid back down. When he woke up, he was usually up for good, but nevertheless, he still had four separate alarms set 15 minutes apart, just in case. 15 minutes sounded just about perfect right now..

“Carlton!”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Carlton’s brain supplied.

The obnoxious voice got closer, “Hey Lassie, Was that your alarm? Shouldn’t you be getting up? I made you pancakes, world famous! Well, by some people’s standards, at least i mean. And world-famous doesn’t necessarily mean _good_ does it? In fact, that’s probably why everyone uses the phrase. No one can really tell you your food _isn’t_ world famous. Anyways, Pancakes! Yeah! i made them, and uh. what was i talking about again?” 

Great. What seemed to be a sleep-deprived, caffeine-hyped Shawn Spencer was disturbing his snooze system, and he was way too tired to tell him how it worked, so he just went for ignoring him instead. 

“Oh. You’re alarm. Are you snoozing?”

“Yes,” Carlton mumbled, “Go away.. Please.. Now.”

“Bad Lassie! You got important work stuff to do, That’s why i made you pancakes! _Famous_ pancakes. Or i might’ve just done that because I’m bored and tired... But you should try them. Oh, but I guess you’re probably tired too, and i mean, I was the one telling you you should call in sick for work tomorrow, or i mean, for today, but i said tomorrow meaning today because it was late.. or i mean early because it had only felt like still yesterday but it was actually early.. today”

Carlton wasn’t sure how Spencer was managing to keep up with himself, Carlton surely couldn’t. The fake psychic really did seem to be out of it. But still, “ _Does he ever shut up?_ ” Carlton wondered.

There was a pause as if Spencer was distracted, “uhh what was i saying? right. I was the one telling you you should call in sick... telling you you.. you you.. God, that sounds weird! It’s like yo yo but weirder!”

Carlton had no idea what the hell he was talking about. “ _Yo yo? you you? that sounds ridiculous_.”

“I think you is just one of those words that sound weird when you say it twice in a row, It’s the same thing for the word too too. Like that! Tutu!”

“For the love of God please shut the hell up,” Carlton thought desperately.

“God i’m tired. How are you still sleeping right now? Your probably just pretending and trying to ignore me right?”

_Yes._

“Whatever I’m going to shut up and go to the other room. Or well.. maybe not shut up. I’m in a very talkative mood right now, which is better than being so tired i can’t move, in my opinion. So i think i might just start talking to myself in the other room. If that weirds you out too much just pretend i’m talking to spirits! Although, i mean, who knows, I am _psychic_ after all! I probably will be!” 

His voice moved into the other room as he kept blabbering. He could still be somewhat heard but at least he had _finally_ left. “ _Now i can finally have some peace thank you_ ,” thought Carlton, just as his next alarm went off.

— —

Carlton grumbled at the daylight. Sun. Too Bright. The past victims had all been killed/dumped mostly indoors but today it just had to be outside? He was too tired for this. “ _At least the sun is kind of keeping me awake_.” he thought sullenly, he looked down at the coffee cup in his hand, “ _better than this pathetic coffee is anyway._ ”

“Good Morning Carlton!” A chipper voice.

He turned to see O’Hara walking over to him, bright smile on her face. God, she could be as annoying as Spencer sometimes. What the hell was she so cheery for?

“What the hell are you so cheery for?” he asked.

O’Hara smirked, as if she expected him to ask exactly that. 

“Oh you know, nothing much. Just a date.”

“Well, good for you, but we _do_ have a serial killer on our hands so we should get to work like proffesionals shouldn’t we?” He didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic, it just kind of came out that way. He was too tired to care. Although he did feel a little guilty as he saw O’Hara’s smile fall a bit. 

“I don’t know what’s got you in such a bad mood but i’m not gonna let you get me down,” her smile resumed, “Let’s go see what we got!”

Before he could respond or apologize, she trudged forward towards the crime scene, not waiting for him to catch up. They walked in the direction of the body as a crime scene technician gave them a general description of the victim, yet to be identified. Carlton mentally prepared himself for the gruesomeness he knew the scene would contain. When they got close enough to see the body themselves they both looked at each other in surprise. Not one drop of blood. 

Carlton looked over at the crime scene technician with one eyebrow raised, “Are you _sure_ this is the same killer?” he asked.

The technician’s expression didn’t change, in fact, he looked bored. “That’s what they were wondering too, but initial analysis says that the signature mark is the same as the other victims. Plus the victim was some kind of psychic or magician or something. If it’s not the same killer, it’s at least a copy cat.”

Carlton walked closer to examine the body when he saw it. The eye of Horus was carved onto the body’s stomach, and the victims heart was laid in their hand, feather in the other. The hole in the victims chest must have not been visible because of the shirt that stopped short at their stomach. Unless..

O’Hara, already on the same page, lifted the shirt up with a gloved hand. No hole.  
She and Carlton looked at each other. 

“Who the hell’s heart _is_ this?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if ya want. I know it’s bad so no need to sugar coat >:^} 
> 
> ((fun game: take a shot everytime i use the wrong there or your))


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